


If Harpy Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy

by Kunaicupcake



Category: Deadpool (Comics), The Avengers, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Amputee, Birth, F/M, Faked Death, Gen, Hallucinations, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Sorry, Lost Love, Lost Memories, M/M, Mind Control, Tony Stark Has A Heart, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunaicupcake/pseuds/Kunaicupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weapon X has begun again beneath the critical eye of Hydra, experiments directed toward children of two mutants, the once abandoned Canada branch taking over the broken facility. The Avengers call upon Deadpool and Wolverine for their prior involvement to help squash this rearing head. The information within the files that were absconded from the facility before Hydra moved in reveal an interesting secret that probably should've been kept quiet, at least for Logan's sake. More details within the first chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Started A Joke

**Author's Note:**

> So, this idea lodged itself like a bullet in my brain while I was trying to write my other work. I am so sorry guys, but my brain needs to get this out if I'm going to continue with my Naruto work. I think it's a pretty cool concept, also if I get some of the history wrong, go ahead and tell me! I always love comments and considering my lack of comic knowledge, it would be educational. No matter how much I want, I don't own any non Original Characters and everyone belongs to their respective creators/owners.
> 
> Also, Chapter Titles will be lyrics, for my entertainment. There are flashbacks, but {White box} and (Yellow box) will generally guide you along through those.

It was midnight, they had been sitting around for more than two hours waiting for the last members to arrive. Logan sat by the large bay windows, staring down from the heights of Stark Towers, sipping at a beer while he considered all the ways he could disembowel and decapitate the rambling mercenary they waited on. It would be in vain of course since the man would just put himself back together, but it was the principle of it that kept him imagining. Steve, Tony, and Clint sat around the coffee table, making attempts at light conversation, but the reason they had assembled brought the mood down to a very dark level. Finally the double doors opened to reveal a tired looking Peter and the ever costumed Deadpool, his mask creasing in what could only be a smile.

.”About time!” Logan snarled, finishing off his brew and standing.

.”Logan,” Steve warned, rising as the other man did in case he needed to break up a fight, “At least we’re all here. If no one needs anything, then we can go right in. Tony?”

.”Right. Ok ladies, you’ve been brought here tonight for some serious business, so if you could keep the cat fights to a minimum, I’m looking at you Logan, that’d be great.” Tony smirked as he rose and began pulling up images to display for the men who now gathered around the coffee table.

Logan snarled at him, but he didn’t rise to the bait, merely crossing his arms over his chest as a familiar image flared to life in holographic optics. 

“As you know, Hydra has been active on and off throughout the years. On Black Widow’s last trip to Canada, she brought back some… Interesting intel. We figured considering the facility that they targeted was an old Weapon X base, you two would be the best to contact.” Steve narrated as Tony threw several more images into the air.

Logan stiffened, but didn’t say a word as old memories scraped at his mind. Deadpool stopped the light banter he had been whispering in Peter’s ear, the younger man blushing ever so slightly over how Wade described how good his butt looked in his sweatpants. He straightened, his mask smoothing over into a blank, white-eyed stare that often preceded a very large rampage. Peter grabbed Wade’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Here are a few files we’ve had the time to look through. They detail the experiments we believe Hydra will try to recreate. It has all participants listed as deceased after Deadpool’s prison break, but we think the information these files have will bring us closer to shutting them down before they can even start. They all started as children, handed off to the base with the pretense of fostering unhealthy orphans. It’s highly likely that they’ll begin to abduct children again.”

Several files flashed into the air, one curiously with a picture that looks more like a Morgue headshot than a traditional patient mugshot. Deadpool steps closer, practically dragging Peter with him until his face is in danger of disrupting the holographic image, “Hey Tincan, open up this one. My brain is itchin’ and not just because of the headshot I let that shitty sniper take earlier.”

The irritation was palpable, but Tony relented and flipped the file open. “Any reason why this one?” Clint asked, his feet kicked up onto the coffee table and arms crossed over his chest.

Deadpool shook his head as he glossed over most of the descriptions, his free hand scratching absently at the hole in the back of his mask where the aforementioned shot had entered. “Guys, you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

(Tacos?)

{No you idiot, the girl.}

(Who you callin’ an idiot? You’re in here too you know.)

{Not by choice. Anyway, yeah considering we’re in your head…}

“It’s gotta be her!”

“Wade who are you talking to? Who’s her?” Tony’s voice wavered over the bickering boxes as they spiraled down into an argument about their existence… Again.

“Ah, don’t worry about that, but I think I know this chick… Like really well, but that’s not her face.”

The men all switched between staring at Deadpool and staring at the girl’s photo, the only name provided being her project code name; Harpy. He began to pace, gloved hand stroking thoughtfully at the chin of his mask, unceremoniously dragging Peter along behind him as they were attached at the hand. 

“Wade, a little break, you’re making me dizzy?” Peter sighed, his sneakers squeaking as he was dragged along a few more paces.

“Oh, sorry BabyBoy, go have a sit, Daddy will figure this out, m’kay?” he said, his mask creasing again in a smile as he patted the younger boy’s head.

With a blush and a grumble, Peter did as he was told, perching on the edge of the couch beside Clint, perhaps one of the more likeable of the group, considering he hardly talked.

“Wade, you mind filling us in then?” Steve prompted, fixing Deadpool with that look, one that meant either he spilled his guts on the subject, or he would literally be spilling his guts around on the floor most likely with Wolverine’s help. 

“Uh, long story there Cap. To put it easily, she and I met a lot back at Weapon X Fun Days Summer Camp, ya know? She was from my generation of experiments. Good girl, really a sweetheart, but crazy. Like… In a good way, a hot way ya know? Like crazier than me, but she had these sharp leg things and ohmygod, her voice. She could undress Wolverine over there with a whisper.” Wade began to ramble, a blush creeping up over his cheeks beneath his mask.

(Oooh yay! A flashback!)

{Oh great, here we go.}

“Mr. Wilson, this way please.” the doctor said, heading down a long white hall.

An unscarred Wade Wilson followed close behind him, eyes squinting against the sharp fluorescence of the lights above. The pair turned and entered into a large room, presumably a training room where one side held several dummies meant for martial arts practice and the other was simply covered in wood flooring with mirrors all along the wall. It was empty save for a young girl who stood barefoot on the wood side of the room, her eyes looking through the mirrors to the two men.

“Ah, there you are. Your practice doesn’t start for another half hour, doesn’t it Little Bird.” The doctor questioned, a good humored smile twitching on his lips.

“Oh, yes, but I’m here to stretch.” she whispered, her deep blue eyes boring into Wade as he stared back, his spine tingling ever so slightly at the predatory look he was being given.

“Now now, don’t intimidate the new arrival. It isn’t polite.” the other man chided as he instructed Wade to wait along the wall while he dealt with the girl.

Wade leaned back, legs crossed at the ankle and arms crossing over his chest as he waited for further instruction. He had been told his body needed to be further conditioned to better receive the treatment for his cancer, general workouts he had thought, but by the looks of the room he might be expected to do ballet. _What have I gotten myself into?_

The pair chatted, several emotions flickering over the girl’s face before she turned her head to regard Wade, the doctor turning around and scurrying back toward the doors. 

“Mr. Wilson, if you would be so kind as to wait here, I need to find her an escort so we can begin your training.” and with not another word the white coated man disappeared, leaving the pair alone together.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” she asked, suddenly across the wood floor and not more than a foot away from Wade.

He tensed, surprised by her appearance, but quickly relaxed, “Naw, do your thing.” he said with a shrug.

As she pressed a button to the boombox that was nestled in the corner, he suddenly wondered if a pole were going to come down. This music was definitely inappropriate for the young girl to be dancing to, not that he was going to stop it. The deep thumping bass set her pace as her slender figure moved across the wood, small feet skipping elegantly through complex footwork. There were no words to the song, just the nearly hypnotic tones as the petite blonde worked through a remarkably classical dance number, much to Wade’s disappointment. 

_Don’t put club music on if you’re not going to strip, that’s bad business._ he thought to himself almost agitatedly before the girl began to sing.

He wasn’t positive that it was her voice, until he saw her lips moving as she spun towards him, her voice echoing with what could only be the most amazing acoustics this earth could offer. Before he realized it, he had leaned away from the wall and was slowly approaching the swaying girl, a light seeming to glow from just beneath her skin. It attracted him like a moth to flame, his large hand stretching out to touch her smaller one extended in his direction, practically inviting him to come even closer. 

“That’s enough Harpy.” the voice grated against the mind numbing music, Wade having to shake himself as his limbs began to feel heavier than ever before.

She continued to sing, stepping closer and closer to Wade as he was forced to the ground by the lead like feeling coursing through him. He suddenly became aware that he wasn’t even panicking, it felt like this had always meant to happen, him being brought to his knees before such a beautiful woman. He gazed up in near rapture as her fingers closed in toward his face, as if meaning to cup his cheek and offer him a kiss, but the crackling buzz of a taser and the smell of burning skin was like a cascade of cold water over him.

He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding in a massive exhale, his muscles shaking from the strain of being forced forward from his kneeling. _What the hell was that?_

His gaze flicked between the now unconscious girl and the guard holding a taser over her. A growl ripped from his throat as he tried to rise and force the large man away from her, but a hand at his shoulder forced him to stay.

“Do not let Harpy’s little game cloud your mind, Mr. Wilson. That guard just saved your life. I warned you that there were others in this facility that were much more intriguing enterprises than a cancerous soldier. Miss Harpy is one of those. I suggest you keep a chaperon the next time you meet.”

(Oh man I remember that… She was hot and you know, not dead then.)

{Pretty sure she’s not dead now since this story is pretty useless without her.}

_What are you guys talking about?_

(Nothing)

{Nothing at all, go back to daydreaming}

“Wade?” Peter’s voice cracked through his internal interrogation, the white eyes of his mask snapping to look at the younger man, the creasing above one eye leaving an unspoken question.

“You faded out there a bit Deadpool, want to make things a little clearer?” Logan growled, unhappy that the man would figure him for being weak against women, especially dead women.

“Uh… Hmmm, look up Abigail Carter, she always liked that name.”

It wasn’t really a collective gasp, no matter how satisfactory that would have been to Wade as the realization Deadpool, of all people, had stumbled upon an answer the Avengers hadn’t been able to grasp yet. File after file after file began popping up on the holographic screen, news tabloids about the famed Harpy labeling her a Villainous mastermind culminating into the last known heist she performed. 

“You’re shitting me.” Tony said, an uncharacteristic drop of the jaw accentuating his awe.

“Language.” Steve said, brow furrowing as he tried to glance at the news clips, all crimes committed while he had been under ice.

To his great frustration he wouldn’t be much help in tracking this woman down, but a knot of apprehension rooted itself in his gut. Supposedly, if the papers could be believed, she had been part of a solo money gathering operation. She was amassing large amounts of money, but for what purpose it had been was never known. Her last job was more than ten years ago, then she just vanished from the face of earth,easily walking away as the richest person on the continent. How had someone so high brow just melted away like that?

“Is this some sick joke?” Logan snarled, his lips up and his fists clenched.

Everyone turned to look at him, suddenly confused by the animosity radiating off the X-men member. 

“How’d you get a picture of her? Did Jarvis write up all this nonsense? What game are you Avengers playing at?”

“Logan?” Steve asked, holding a non threatening hand up as if to stop the impending furious meltdown, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve got Grace’s pictures up all over your screen, then you have Wilson claiming to know her off a cold slab picture in a Weapon X database file. This sick joke isn’t funny and I figured of everyone here Rogers, you wouldn’t stoop that low.”

“Logan, you’re gonna have to speak English here, because right now you’re talking like Wilson.” Clint piped up, still easily reclined next to the tense Peter.

“Abigail Grace Carter, take away the wings and the stupid head dress and that’s my girlfriend. What did you just photoshop this together Stark?” the slicing of his adamantium claws ripping through the silence of the room.

“Holy shit, you’re dating my ex? Crazy world huh?” Deadpool perked up, hands on hips and lips creasing in a wide grin.

If anyone’s jaws would have dropped lower, they would have been all over the floor as the silence returned like a heavy blanket.

“Holy… Shit” Clint managed, his eyes raising in interest, “I have got to hear this story.”

Logan growled, his claws retracting before he rummaged around in his pants for his phone. He quickly punched in a very familiar number and waited, his free hand opening and closing, “Hey, I need you to come to the tower… Yeah, now. Do I sound like I’m joking?”

The conversation had been quick and relatively cold as Logan promptly threw his phone across the room, glaring at the scattered pieces, “You’ll get all the information you need when she gets here.”

“Holy shit, you weren’t joking, you really know her?” Clint asked, leaning out of the way as Peter made a bee-line for the grinning Deadpool. 

“You dated a super villainous and didn’t bother saying anything?”

“BabyBoy you make it sound like I actively kept it a secret. I almost forgot about her… Come to think of it, I saw her last about the time she disappeared. That’s waaaay too far back for me to think.”

(Oh, you’re such a liar. You remember that wet dream a month ago?)

_Shut up, a boner right now isn’t the best way to tell Petey I’m not thinkin’ of her._

{But… You are, a lot actually. Especially after that flashback.}

_Aren’t you supposed to help me, not get me in deeper?_

(Oh you wanna be deep, all in her.)

{She makes the best noises doesn’t she?}

“Ok shut up. I’ve had it with you two.”

“Excuse me?” Peter asked, a frown pulling at his lips, his hands on his hips in a very dangerous sign of irritation.

“Oh, not you BabyBoy.” he said, tapping his skull before it sank in that Wolverine had just called /her/.

He had to resist the urge to flounce around, Harpy was coming here and he’d get to see her. He stepped up toward the still displayed file while Stark conversed to Jarvis about prepping the Tower and Steve attempted to read through the various files outlining her abilities. Wade stared at the most recent picture, the head dress as Wolverine had suggested had been removed and the wings erased from the background. Her long blonde hair was alive in the wind and her deep blue eyes sparkled with that sadistic spark he had adored so much. If it wasn’t for the spray of blood from the recently decapitated person below her, Wade could’ve sworn this was taken back at the facility. Flashes of dark memories crept through his mind, forcing him to take a few steps back, his hand reaching out to Peter as he turned away.

With a shaky breath he shook his head, knuckles digging at his temple as he willed the visions away.

(Hey ask Harp to sing you a song, that’ll fix it.)

{She’d probably make you relive one of your meetings… It’s worth the risk of her making you jump off a balcony or something.}

(Does Stark even have balconies?)

{Does it matter? She’ll make him see a balcony.}

(This is true…)

“Hey Wade?” Steve calls, pulling Deadpool from his thoughts, the Merc oddly silent as he asks, “How accurate is all this? I mean these notes are pretty… Messy.”

“Eh, blame it on the educational system. It’s all pretty true from what I saw, no matter how farfetched it might sound.” he responded, his voice oddly neutral, “She has Angel’s wings, Wolverine’s healing factor, and her own little mutation. Pretty much she sings and you see whatever she wants you to see, it’s pretty trippy.”

“She has my what?” Logan snarled, dragged from his internal argument over whether this was really happening or if this elaborate joke was going to continue.

“Well yeah, the other Weapon X pretty much always got a piece of your healing factor. Her’s… From what I remember was corrupted, the DNA was tainted by something, so it’s nothing like the real thing, but she can hold her own pretty well when injured, or you know exhausted and hot and bleeding all over the bed…”

“Mmmm Wade, wanna explain how you know that?” Clint practically purred from his place on the couch, a smirk on his face as he let Deadpool walk right into the small trap.

“Oh you know, we--” a shot of webbing hit roughly over the mouth of his mask, successfully muffling the words that followed before Wade realized no one could understand him.

Logan stood, seething as his glare bore into the base of Deadpool’s skull, his mind already working on ways to torture the nearly immortal man. Before anyone could do anything, Jarvis chimed in that the guest had arrived. The room went silent as the double doors opened, revealing an unexpected sight.


	2. Everybody's Born With Their Own Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mentioned OFC is revealed and a few special secrets are spilled, mostly involving Logan, but there are a few hints. If you see them (they are embarrassingly obvious now that I think about it) keep them to yourself in case folks don't want spoilers. I'm happy to answer any questions ya'll have in the comments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any non OFC nor do I own any songs or lyrics mentioned below. They belong solely to their owners. I hope you guys like it. The next few chapters we'll be looking in on their visions, so I'm excited for that. I love comments and again any comic/character information I got wrong is completely welcome to correction.

A woman stood in the doorway, no taller than five and a half feet, with locks of polished copper and eyes of hazel. Normally she would have appeared slender, once athletic now softened by household chores, but her burgeoning belly disrupted her otherwise hourglass figure. She wore a green dress that barely cleared the floor, a pair of sandals dangling from her hand, and a jacket that hung at her shoulders. Tentatively she stepped into the room, suddenly apprehensive of why she had become the center of attention.

“Hello, Abigail is it? Welcome to Stark Towers. Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, at your service.” Tony was the first to speak, striding forward and offering her a hand.

She shot Logan a curious glance, his back now turned toward her as he glowered out the window, “Abigail Carter, pleased to meet you.” she said after a pause, a ghost of a smile at her lips.

She walked toward Logan, her gait swaying in a more pronounced waddle than a normal pregnant woman, “Hey honey, want to explain why I had to rush my shower and get over here so fast. Is everything ok?” she had stopped after a few steps, her brows furrowing.

“This can’t be her, she looks nothing like the picture.” Clint grumbled from the couch, Tony quickly minimizing the projected files before Abigail had a chance to look at him.

“What pictures? Is this just a show your girlfriend off thing?” she asked, her hand suddenly clenching into a fist, “I rushed to drop my kids off at my sister’s so you could show me off at one in the morning? Are you kidding me?”

Logan remained silent, hands clenching into fists as he stared out the window, his reflection obscured by the bright lights of the city far below.

(Oh man, she’s still hot. She should go blond again though.)

{Here here, she could make a Mumu fashionable.}

_I like big tits and I cannot lie._

(You other brotha’s can’t deny)

{When a girl walks in}

“With a great big rack and rubs it in your face.” he sang out, finally working the webbing free of his mask,

“Deadpool!” Steve answered sharply, his eyebrows arching in surprise as he addressed the humming man, Clint snorting into his hand as he watched.

Her eyes skimmed past the costumed man, too used to the mutants who walked in and out of Logan’s home to be captivated by a masked superhero, to rest on Captain America. She looked him over a few times, trying to access what it was that had made the man stop the more vulgar one and suddenly it hit her, “Steve Rogers… /The/ Captain America? Wow, so you skipped past all your mutant buddies and went straight to all the Avengers. You made me walk here this pregnant with swollen feet to prove to everyone that I have a big rack? You were supposed to be home two hours ago! Now I’m here and I don’t get so much as a ‘Hi honey, sorry about this I know you’re just aching from that baby I put in you, but I have a real serious reason’, Mister ‘does it sound like I’m joking?’. No Tony freaking Stark has to greet me at the door because you’re busy brooding in a corner!”

“Wow…” Clint whispered, Peter echoing the sentiment a few nanoseconds after while the other men, besides Logan stared in shock. That was a quick turn around.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back as Logan turned around on his heel and marched toward her, his face beat red as he roared, “You need to shut your lying mouth because you don’t even have fucking feet!”

The look in her eyes made the hulking man stop short, a strange emotion flashing across his face as the reality of what he had said sank in, “Holy shit Logan… That was fucked up.” Wade whispered, one hand clenching into a fist and the other squeezing Peter’s hand. You knew you messed up when the Merc with a Mouth told you as much.

“James Howlett, I will not be spoken to that way. Get your shit out of my house by tomorrow morning.” she said, her lip curling up in a sneer as she turned around and marched as steadily as she could for the door, meaning to pull the handle in a flourish and disappear down the hall in true cinematic fashion, but the door didn’t budge.

She tried again, pushing, pulling, and jiggling the handle. By now Tony had put some distance between himself and the now seething woman as she turned to glare at them all, “I demand to know what’s going on.”

Her eyes flashed to Logan, but he had since busied himself behind the bar, his face though in a slight snarl, was a general mask as he headed to the farthest corner of the room away from Abigail.

“Hey it’s all cool, just relax. We want to talk to you.” Wade said, sounding uncharacteristically calm as he approached her,

Honestly he was the only option considering he could be jigsawed back together if anything unfortunate happened. The others watched in agreeable silence as they allowed him to offer himself up to the angry mutant-who-might-not-be-a-mutant-because-she-dyed-her-hair-but-Wade-knows-it’s-her-because-honestly-who-else-could-it-be.

“Are you thirsty, do you want some water or something? Maybe have a sit on the big comfy couch?”

“Do I look like I’m three to you?”

“Hey! That wasn’t nice.”

“I never said I was a nice person.”

(Oh fuck yeah, listen to that dirty mouth!)

{Remember when that dirty mouth was wrapped around our--}

_Guys, seriously shut the fuck up. I can’t focus on words if you’re making the blood rush to my dick._

(Point taken… I’ll just take care of mister pornographic over here.)

“Okay then… What do you want then?”

“To go home. C’mon Spiderman reject, make it happen.”

“Hey! I’m not Pe--... I’m not a reject, alright? I’m Deadpool, and you’re not leaving, sorry.”

“You want to give me something I want, right?”

{Oh yeah we’ve got a lot to give you!}

_Shut up!_

“Sure I do.”

“Then let me go.”

Their conversation began to dissolve into a banter of back and forth, Deadpool offering her different things and Abigail continually refusing him to repeat she only wanted her release. Meanwhile somewhere in the background Tony was monologuing about the situation the rest of the room had been briefed on before, entirely aware his words were falling on deaf ears, but it made his outburst so much more poignant.

“Ok how about this? My glock shoved down your throat, would that satisfy your sassy ass?” Deadpool growled, losing his patience as he got in the much smaller woman’s face.

“Easy there Deadpool, we agreed talking, right?” Steve warned, a hand reaching for his shield in case he had to knock a bit of etiquette into the man.

“No, he’s got a point, that would be lovely because it would give me a great excuse to take his mask and choke him with it!”

“Hey! You don’t touch my mask!”

“Ok ladies, you’re both pretty.” Tony announces as with a flick of his wrist Abigail’s Weapon X file flickers to life between them, “But Miss Carter has some explaining to do, about this. It would help if she did it quickly because I can’t stand Wolverine sulking in my house.”

Abigail took a few steps back, startled by the bright green information that had flickered to life before her. On the other side Wade opened his mouth to continue his tirade, but the look on her face silenced him.

“Where did you find this?” she asked, her once screaming voice a mere whisper.

“That’s classified. All you need to know is that we have it and we’d like some answers to the very obvious questions.” Steve replied, though not unkindly.

“How did you get all this information? How’d you link these names together? My name… It’s so common, who did you torture to find all this out?” she asked, a mask of awe and trepidation.

“Apparently your good friend Deadpool ratted you. He had a name and everything ready when he saw you as a blonde. I always wondered why you changed it, but I guess it makes sense now. I mean how could you hide right under everyone’s nose as my girlfriend, if you looked exactly like Harpy.” Logan answered, his anger accented by the sound of his beer bottle breaking in his hand.

“Who is Deadpool?!” Abigail sighed with exasperation, torn between laughing. crying, screaming, and curling into a small ball.

Her stomach knotted and instinctively she laid a hand on the bulge, worrying the soft skin of her lip with her teeth. Today had been such a good day. Her hazel eyes turned as movement caught her attention beyond the transparent file, the crease of his mask hinting at a smile as he waved.

“Hi, Deadpool, Merc with a Mouth, Professional Pancake Connoisseur!”

Abigail turned back toward Logan, her fists clenching and opening as the anger built in her chest, “Logan don’t you dare pawn something off on a dimwit like him! You went digging didn’t you! After I told you to leave our past alone after that Jean incident. We both agreed! But I bet you just had to go on and poke around where your nose didn’t belong.”

“Jean thing… I seriously want a TV guide or something. This is getting interesting.” Clint commented from the couch, reclined back like he was in his own private movie theater. Tony and Steve had joined him, resigned to their more minor roles in getting the woman to spill the beans.

“I don’t want to hear about it! That was years ago and it would’ve been the perfect time to tell me that you have my healing factor! I told you about Jean, you told me about the kids’ dad. That wasn’t a fair fucking trade off Abby!” Logan snarled, stalking closer to her.

“Yeah well I don’t remember any lines being drawn permanently in the sand, you know when you moan her name every other fucking night! So you’re damn right it wasn’t a fair trade off. You got a name, I liked him a lot, but I had let him go. I gave up. You still cling so hard to that dead girl that it’s sickening.”

“More sickening than being with a hormonal, raging amputee woman who was hiding that fact that she was a super villainess? Seriously, you wanna pull the sickening card on me?”

The room went dead silent. That man just wouldn’t learn to not poke a sleeping bear, even when it woke up and clawed at his face. She stood seething, her arms shaking from the force it took to restrain herself. She would not rely on her powers to utterly fuck with his mind, no this would be the fairest fight she could ever have. She was armed with his worst fears and she was going to use them. That is until that annoying red and black clad man decided to butt in again.

“Hey guys, c’mon, you can’t mean all this right? I mean, every Weapon X has a lot of fuzzy memories, sometimes our brains you know upchuck little things we’d all like shoved deep down. We can’t all remember it right, or control it, and the important thing is you met through a normal life. She’s still the same girl you met, just now she has powers like you. I dunno about you guys, but I would find that amazing. I mean she even changed her hair so no one would recognize her, to you know keep you safe. It’s like that prize in cereal. You don’t expect it till it’s in your bowl.” 

The couple went silent as they stared at him. Tonight was full of surprises, which made at least two of the Avengers question whether they were dreaming or not considering how genuinely useful Deadpool was being.

“Just who exactly are you, how do you know so much about me?” Abigail finally asked, hands on hips and giving him that ever skeptical eyebrow raise he had missed.

He strode towards her, his back to the other men and leaned in close to her. He had to bend his taller frame down so they were nearly eye to eye. Slowly he lifted his mask and hearing no words of disgust, he lifted his eyes to stare into hers, “Hey Abs, long time no see, huh? Miss me?”

Her lips made the most adorable O as more and more of his face became visible, tears swimming in the hazel depths before she stepped back as quickly as she could. Even after years of using normal prosthesis, they couldn't keep up with the rapid backpedal needed to keep her balanced as she leaned away from him. Her feet slipped, but instead of meeting the ground like she was expecting, familiar muscular arms caught her ever so delicately. Her eyes had closed as she braced for impact, but now they peeked open, familiar scarred lips twitching into a smile as he looked down at her.

He leaned down, nearly pressing his lips to her ear as he whispered, “You haven’t been dancing in a while, have you? Shame on Logan, keeping such a beautiful partner tucked away. Remember when we danced?”

(Oh that was smooooth)

{Mmmmm smooth operator}

_Hey! Pick another one, less jazzy more angry makeup sex._

(That Five Finger Death Punch song she liked so much?)

{How do you remember that?}

(How do you /not/ pedostache?)

{Who are you calling pedostache?}

_Guys! C’mon, less arguing, more metal fuck fest._

The response was almost involuntary as her wings squirmed beneath her skin, Deadpool’s breath catching in his throat as he felt the hidden appendages, just beneath the surface. “Wade…” she gasped beneath him, his arms tightening around her ever so slightly, afraid she might break into pieces suddenly.

As the realization sunk in that Wade Wilson, the man who had held her hand after they had forced her wings out the first time, the one who carried her around when they had taken her legs, and the one who made her laugh no matter how much pain he had been in, was now right here holding her in his arms just like old times. Wade Wilson, the man who had hit and quit on her that last night so many years ago, never answering her calls, nearly killing all their old friends, and leaving her completely alone.

She shivered and a very different look crept over her face, her eyes darkening into a deep sapphire and her shaking lips hardening into an angry line, “Wade!” she practically snarled.

Before she could do anything, sticky webbing caught her across the mouth, effectively silencing her, before more of it secured her arms to her torso. She struggled as Wade lifted her up and whisked her off to the couch where Peter added a few extra webs for good measure. She glowered up at the young man, a similar look in his eye as he regarded her. Just how special was she that she deserved that look Wade had given her, that look only he was supposed to get.

The trio that had been occupying the couch were now huddled near the bar, Clint cracking open a cold one as Steve and Tony discussed just how they were going to get her to cooperate.

“She seems more lucid than Wade could ever manage, maybe she remembers a good deal of the facility map wise.” Steve reasoned, a large hand running through his spiffy coiffed hair.

“Yes, but she seems more volatile, she can flip on a dime, so she would still need a babysitter. Preferably someone deaf and blind” Tony countered.

“Har har, very funny Stark. Don’t look at me like that, you might have to buy me dinner.” Clint shot back, noticing the expectant look on the other man’s face, a clear indication that he was up to bat for this one.

The trio turned to regard the now heated argument between the re-masked Deadpool and the pouting Peter.

“You know, if I knew this would’ve happened, I would’ve stayed home tonight.” Steve mumbled

“What and miss all this? It’s like Pay Per View, but with better threats and more clothes.” Clint snorted, a wide smirk on his face as he downed his drink.

“You think maybe you won’t drink all my good beer there sport?” Tony said, eyeing the archer and his growing crowd of brown bottles.

“Hey, you decided to host, I might as well take you up on it. Besides, who knows if we’ll get a better show than the one before. I haven’t seen a feather off her and Parker capped her before she could do anything mutant voice wise. How do we even know she’s the real Harpy?”

By the couches, Abigail glowered, forced to watch the two men arguing about what she and Logan had been just a few moments ago. With the secrets flying around, the accusations spitting like cats; It had begun to be a little over done. Maybe it was her hormones or maybe she was just tired, she’d been nesting all day and the anxiety of having to rush over here for her boyfriend had really done her in.

“Huh, so it’s /that/ Wade. I don’t know why I expected any differently. Granted it looks like he kept more than a few secrets from you. I don’t blame him for dropping you on your ass sweetheart. I’m almost with him there.” Logan appeared at her side, his frustration easily masked as he watched the pair argue.

He didn’t know what it was, but the fight had gone out of him. It felt like it wasn’t worth it anymore and she had been right, he was stuck on Jean, no matter how many years had gone by. He wondered if any of the feelings he had for the now bound girl were real, or if they had been harbored for that red hair and the self sufficient attitude she had exuded when they first met. He offered no more insults as he sat down beside her, nursing a beer, and tensely waited for the rest of the meeting to continue.

Tony whisked between Wade and Peter, effectively ending their angry staring match and he crouched to look Abigail in the eyes, “Hawkeye brought up a very valid point, how are we supposed to know this is the real Harpy? I mean, she could be a decoy.”

“What’s wrong Stark, don’t trust my eye?” Deadpool asked, feigning hurt as a gloved hand grasped at his chest.

“Believe it or not, no I don’t.” The man retorted.

“Well, it’s not like we can ask her to show off anything, she’s pregnant. If she could have done anything physical, I figure she would have done it by now.” Steve added.

“Yeah that’s true, you know if Petey here hadn’t webbed her mouth, I’m sure she would’ve steam plowed us with her voice.” Wade offered, arms over his chest as he pretended to think of something, “Or you know we could make her sing. Since you guys want to pussy out and all.”

They all sat in an uncomfortable silence, pondering just how smart it was to let someone with hallucinogenic, and quite possibly infrasonic, vocal powers sing for them. How could they ensure that she would play nicely considering how they had treated her since she walked through the door. Maybe if everyone had played nicely in the beginning this wouldn’t be such a difficult obstacle, but considering the things brought to light, it was still a miracle that Logan hadn’t spontaneously combusted. 

“You know, for all the bad stuff she’s done… She’s a pretty decent girl.” Wade finally broke the silence, walking up to her and resting his forehead on her shoulder.

She tensed up, but listened as he whispered his proposed plan to her, a personalized euphoric vision that would let her see their true intents to prove they really meant for her to be helpful, not trap her, and a chance to prove that she meant them no lasting harm which would mean her release. It was verging on two in the morning and Abigail was honestly done with all the bickering and arguing going on, so with a quick nod of agreement, the webbing on her mouth was gingerly peeled away.

“Go on BabyGirl, sing that song. Daddy wants some music.”

{Probably not the best thing to say with your boyfriend right there…}

(What do you mean? Look at the butter puddle he just made her into.)

Before anyone could propose any sort of refusal, the room was filled with the most melodious voice anyone could hope to hear. There was no beat, but the echoing of her words off the walls lent a hypnotic sub-bass to the slow tempo song.

_/I started a joke which started the whole world crying/_

The men went rigid, those who were standing had their eyes roll back into their skulls.

_/But I didn't see that the joke was on me oh no/_

_/I started to cry which started the whole world laughing/_

Logan’s claws darted out, barely missing Abigail’s arm as he convulsed for a moment.

_/Oh If I'd only seen that the joke was on me/_

_/I looked at the skies running my hands over my eyes/_

Deadpool and Peter crumpled to the ground, obvious signs of sexual frustration making thick mounds in their pants.

_/And I fell out of bed hurting my head from things that I said/_

_/'Till I finally died which started the whole world living/_

Steve and Tony remained standing, their eyes clouded, wearing matching grins, the larger Avenger actually reaching out as if to take someone’s hand.

_/Oh if I'd only seen that the joke was on me/_

_/I looked at the skies running my hands over my eyes/_

Logan murmured as his head thrashed back and forth, unbidden tears dripping down his face.

_/And I fell out of bed hurting my head from things that I said/_

_/'Till I finally died which started the whole world living/_

_/Oh if I'd only seen that the joke was on me/_

Clint remained standing behind the bar, mouth agape as his hand tightened on his bottle of beer, his hearing aids still fully functioning as he watched the scene before him. He locked eyes with the singing woman, her eyes a deep blue as tears dripped freely down her face, a white film brimming over the orbs as she watched all of their visions. Her consciousness wavered as she sorted through their subconscious minds, her feelings mixing with the ones that overflowed from her temporary hold. She hadn’t done this is years, but she hadn’t lost an ounce of finesse or gentleness. How could she have been so stupid as to think that her past wouldn’t come back to haunt her? It was a little demanding of fate to expect her to handle it all once like this, but she reasoned she deserved it after the rampage she’d gone on after Wade left her.


	3. Everyone's Fantasy Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, Wade Wilson (Deadpool) and Steve Rogers (Captain America) in the visions Abigail has given them. They're short, and not really living up to the explicit title, but I promise, there will be more of that later.

-Deadpool-

He knew she couldn’t see it beneath his mask, but his lips tipped up in the softest smile as he felt tendrils grab his mind and shake it from consciousness. The blunt force he felt to the back of his head was formed into a small hand slapping him as Abigail walked around from behind him, an elegant red dress clinging provocatively to her figure. Her blond hair curled as it fell past her shoulders, her baby blues batting at him as her ruby lips tipped up in a smile. A crowd of finely dressed people swam into view as he gazed around in the airy space surrounding him. A long forgotten memory wriggled its way into consciousness like a maggot among grey matter, this was the last mission they had gone on together, a benefit gala for the Program, back when people genuinely believed the crock and bull story they’d been fed. He looked down at his hand, discreetly rubbing the sweaty palms against the pants of his tuxedo, his mind registering shock as he looked at an unscarred hand. He tried to will his body to turn around, to find a mirror, anything but take her stretched out hand and be lead to the dance floor.

Wade licked his lips, panic rising in him as he fought to do anything outside of the remembered movements, but a look deep into Dream Abigail’s eyes told him the real one was mentally there with him; he was safe in his mind. Dream Abigail giggled at something, a blush peppering her pale face as they shared some small joke, but the sound was drowned out by the rhythmic bass of the music. They began to dance, sharing chaste phrases that would’ve made a whore blush, but try as hard as he might, he couldn’t recall just what they had said. 

His eyes cast down and appraised the shapely legs that peeked from the slit in her dress, their feet working in almost perfect unison, their bodies melting together as they spun around on the floor. Before he knew it they had been left alone, the outer world dimming until it felt like it was just a spotlight on the pair of them. This had been the first time he had truly felt something for her, something beyond kindred souls in the same military program; back when he had been handsome, back when she had real legs, back when they had both been as close to normal as they would get.

That smile, a promise of things later tonight if she was allowed some free time, the cottesh way she pressed her body against his and practically dipped herself as their tango slowed. He could feel her hot breath at his neck as she hooked her leg around his waist, lunging together so low that the cut of her dress bordered dangerously on pornographic. He appreciatively groped her ass which earned him a few half moon scars in his shoulder as she dug her nails into him, half in pleasure and half in reprimand. He already knew they would become a sensation, physical manifestations of what the program had to offer both genders, the money would come pouring in; after all he had already lived through this.

He let the old feelings wash over him like a warm bath, letting the cancer pain fall away, and embracing the hot twinge beginning to coil in his lower stomach. He knew, as he had then, that it was going to be difficult hiding such a large bulge from the general public, after all they had been ordered to behave and what they were doing was everything but. They continued contorting and rubbing against one another, his large hands easily lifting her slender frame, their faces a breath apart as they came together for the final thrumps of bass; their hearts hammering in tune to the music. 

Slowly they broke apart, reluctance obvious in each step as they made their way off the dance floor to fading applause. They continued walking, Dream Abigail leading him off as the world around them darkened to a soft black, his hand desperately trying to keep hold of her small one as it slipped from his grasp. Dream Abigail looked over her shoulder, giving him a ‘come and get me look’ before she began to run. He tried to keep up, with all his might, but he was weighed down by something. He looked ahead as she came to a stop, her lips moving before the words faintly reached him, “You were better off dead.”

 

-Steve-

He remembered stepping forward, his mouth opening to interrupt them, to stop them, to do anything really to keep the recently outed villianess from using her powers, but then his whole world went black. He felt like he was drifting in a fog, his muscular body in a warm, but familiar stasis. Panic began to well deep in him, the feeling of moving around in the unconscious world too much like when he had been frozen. Gently tendrils reached out to him, calming the furrow of his brow and wrapping around him like a security blanket, squeezing the panic from him.

“Steve, calm down, it’ll all be ok.” a voice whispered down to him as his eyes blinked into the light.

He was soaking wet, the clothing clinging tightly to his large muscles. He coughed and water bubbled up from his lungs, yet he felt no pain as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. As everything swam into view, the smell of a fishy wharf hit him, a chill slithering down his spine, he was in New York, but not the same one he had just been in. It was like he was back in the 40’s, the men and women around him dressed in familiar clothes, but it was the look on the woman’s face above him that shocked him into speaking.

“Mom? What… What are you doing here?” he asked her, intermittently coughing up bouts of water.

A large hand slapped him on the back, the face of his long time friend Bucky swimming into view as he looked behind him.

“Oh Steve! Don’t scare me like that. I was so worried when you jumped in after that young boy.” his mother gushed, a handkerchief dabbing at the corner of her eyes.

“Yeah, the boy just needed a little help up, but you just had to make the rest of us look bad there huh. Savin’ the day and getting your head knocked against the ladder.” Bucky sat down beside him, his clothes obviously just as soaking wet as his, “What’s it come to when the hero has to be rescued, huh?”

A blush peppered his cheeks, a small tingle of embarrassment prickling along his skin. He rubbed at the back of his neck and stood up, his large arms moving to squeeze the tiny woman that was his mother, “I’m sorry ma, it’s just…”

“Oh! I know Steve I know, but you’re soaking wet! Let’s get you home and make sure you boys don’t catch a cold.”

“Aw Mrs. Rogers, we’ll be fine-” Bucky was cut off by the look in Steve’s eyes, the tears that threatened to drip down his chiseled face, “You ok there?”

“Yeah… Just Ma, that sounds real great.”

Although the journey should’ve taken at least half an hour if not more, they arrived in an apartment complex on the richer side of town in a matter of seconds. The three hustled through the doors, the doorman tipping his hat as he greeted them, “Good day Master Rogers, Madam Rogers, and Master Barnes.”

Steve gaped as he was lead along to the elevator, the attendant happily tipping his hat at them before they were on their way up.

“Okay here we are.” Bucky said, producing a key and with a soft knock, unlocking the door to reveal the plush apartment beyond.

The main door lead out into a spacious entry way, the apartment easily covering at least half the building’s floor in its luxury. Soft music played from a record player as they walked in, his mother helping him shrug out of his jacket and untying his shoes. The lights were on and sounds from the kitchen spoke of another person, “Hey Bucky where are we?” he asked softly.

“What did you hit your head or something down there? This is your house. Hey Abby! Peggy get a load of this, your husband doesn’t recognize his own house.” Bucky called back toward the kitchen where two pairs of feet could be heard coming toward the living room.

“Oh my! What happened, are you two alright? You’re soaked to the bone. Come on, out of those wet clothes. I’ll run over to our house and bring you some so we can eat dinner.” a short blond bubbled, fussing over Bucky as he laughed and kissed her on the cheek, her blue eyes turning to look at Steve with an odd shimmer, “You’ll catch your death of cold.”

 

Peggy Carter tottered from the kitchen, her stomach swollen with child, as she hurried over to Steve, “Oh! What happened this time? Go, go to the bedroom and change, I’ll get you something warm.”

Steve stared dumbstruck, the ever volatile Peggy Carter, or Rogers if what Bucky had just said was true, was heavily pregnant and fussing over him like a love struck wife. Faintly, his mind reasoned this can’t have happened, but it did feel ever so right. A dumb smile pulled at his lips, his hand reaching out to take his mother’s hand as he looked into her worried eyes, “Oh Ma… I don’t ever want to leave.” he sighed.

“Oh, but Steve, you’ve got to leave some time.” the blond who had been occupying Bucky’s mouth since Peggy had left the kitchen was now staring at him, her eyes boring into him like a predator, “I’m sorry but I can’t keep you here forever.”


	4. Everyone's Fantasy Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the long awaited trio Tony, Peter, and Logan's visions. I like the way it turned out, not how I planned, but definitely in the direction I wanted it to go.

-Tony-

The world went dark and he felt a small pressure in the back of his head before he stumbled forward from the well lit common area to a much darker room. It felt like a stage, the floor hollow beneath his feet and the glow of the world like a multicolored limelight. Popping sounds assaulted his ears and the sky illuminated with the whizzing crack of fireworks, the images around him settling into clarity; he was alone in Stark Towers. A champagne flute appeared in his hand and a sultry voice called out to him from the leather couches turned to face the fireworks display outside, “Don’t worry Mr. Stark, you’re perfectly safe.”

He saw a blonde woman luxuriously laid out on his couch in a rather revealing ball gown, trimly cut to accentuate her every desireable curve with a long slit nearly up to her hip. She held a similar drink and had her soft blue eyes fixed on him, a catty smile on her ruby lips, “Don’t look so stunned, it’s not you I’ve dressed up for. I just came from Wade’s mind and we were dancing. I’ve been told you’re too smart for my tricks, so I decided to cut you some slack.”

The familiar room came in and out of focus with each crescendo of light, the dark hair man stunned into silence as he regarded the mental replica, taking a cautionary sip of his drink as he sauntered closer to her, an eyebrow quirking as he spoke, “You know there’s more to the Towers than dark rooms and drinks. What is the point then if you’re here to impress me with your good will and all that?”

“You and I have similar interests, but I use that term very loosely. You see I might not be giving you some cock and bull vision right now like I am Mr. Gallant or the young idiot, but I have looked in your head. Trust me when I say you’re very normal to some of the heroes I’ve peeked into.” She paused, smirking at her own joke before she got to her feet, her heels vanishing without any trace of having been there before, “You want to keep something safe, be it an ideal or something tangible. Me? I want to keep my family safe. That’s why I took all the money I could, I took all those lives to ensure the sustainability of my own children. You… You killed all those men to ensure your own survival and later on… You did it for Pepper, then for all your friends. Do you know what the party outside is all about, Mr. Stark?”

Tony allowed no emotion besides droll interest to show on his face as he listened, but at the mention of the party, he hazarded a look down into the streets and his heart skipped a beat. Below hundreds of thousands of people were celebrating, dancing, throwing things into the air as the fireworks rang out above them in the sky, common phrases being illuminated on the large megatrons being “Tony Stark Saves The World” and “Iron Man Was Just The Beginning”.

“I… Saved the world yeah, but no one was throwing me a party before. It was the Avengers…”

“Oh I’m well aware, but this is what you desire the most, isn’t it? Not the recognition, you’re already famous. Look to the sky my dear brainiac.”

His eyes cast up and the champagne flute fell from his fingers with a crash, in the soft twilight cast by the stars, the heavens were illuminated like a web of diamonds. He knew, though he had no proof, that he was the father of the amazing concept held aloft among the stars; A suit of armor around the world. She was suddenly behind him, her slender fingers trailing up his chest as she stretched to her toes to whisper in his ear, “I can’t see the future yet, but they aren’t wrong, Ironman was just the beginning.”

 

-Peter-

There was a split second between the time it took Wade to cross the space over to /that/ woman and the horror of recognition to light on Pete’s face. His world darkened before his glaring eyes, hot anger coiling in the pit of his stomach, his head falling back to strike smartly on the floor. Dazedly he opened his eyes, the back of his skull tender to the touch as he groggily tried to gain his bearings. His mouth was dry, his lips chapped, and his body bare.

He gave a start as he realized he was naked, gritting his teeth as he hit the back of his head again on the headboard behind him. He blinked furiously, hands balling into fists as the dark room came into focus. His breathing was ragged and sweat glistened across his chest, confusion mixing the feeling of pain and pleasure as he felt a warm mouth latch onto his shoulder, teeth digging into the soft skin. He gasped, struggling against the restraints he suddenly found around his wrists.

His voice caught in his throat as the seemingly disembodied mouth drifted from his shoulder, warm breath creating a surprisingly pleasant sensation as it cooled the sweat on his skin. Despite his initial panic, he was able to calm down and recognize his surroundings; it was Wade’s room where they had been just hours before. On the floor he saw a trail of clothes leading toward the now closed door and the shuttered window managed to let in just enough moonlight for the young man to distinguish furniture in the gloom.

His focus was pulled back now to the figure that sat before him, comfortingly the same shape as Wade, as it moved from his side to kneel between his legs. Peter’s eyes rolled back as a hot, wet mouth latched around the head of his erection, a stray hand gently massaging the young boy’s hip. He swallowed thickly, trying to distinguish between the anger roiling within him and the pure lust that had his heart hammering into his ribcage. What had he even been mad about in the first place?

There was a wet popping sound and Peter swore he meant to make a more attractive sound than the very feminine sigh that escaped his lips, well more of a wheeze really as Wade let his dick pop free of his mouth. His body tensed, the muscles of his thighs coiling tauntly in anticipation as he felt rough hands grab at his waist and a single wet finger gingerly exploring his hole. He whimpered and thrashed against the restraints at his wrists, wanting nothing more than to dig his nails into Wade’s shoulders, to score his back with countless marks; he would heal, but the passion behind them would burn long after.

Peter could hear Wade’s breath, shallow and panting as he added a finger, noises of approval thick in his throat as he went to work on his lover. There was a small pause before Wade removed his fingers, eliciting a whine of disapproval from Peter before something much more enticing was pressing at his entrance. The younger boy moaned almost shrilly as Wade thrust into him, not as gently as he was used to nor as difficult; Wade’s delightfully wet cock slipping easily into him.

Strong, muscle roped arms grabbed the slender boy, lifting him up slightly for a better angle as Wade wantonly thrust to the hilt over and over. Peter was at his mercy, a puddle of sweat and mixed noises as he was used. Not once did the older man dare to touch the other’s cock that so brazenly stood at attention, hitting back onto Peter’s stomach with each grunt; Peter was too lost in the ocean of euphoria to notice.

What felt like ages of repeated over-stimulation Wade finally came for the fifth time, panting roughly in Peter’s ear while his arms shook in post-orgasmic tension. Peter lay limply, held up only by those muscular arms and the soft restraints at his wrists, cum dripping slowly from his ass and his chest a hatching of white cum, both dried and fresh. As the mercenary gathered himself, his hands deftly releasing Peter’s so that they fell bonelessly to the panting boy’s sides. He felt like he was weighed down with bricks and it seemed all to the satisfaction of the other as the man leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“Thanks for the party… I’ll see you next time Baby Girl.” Wade whispered, his voice husky and deep.

With that the man moved off, pulling his mask over his face and used a neatly folded towel to wipe the majority of the mess from his body. He deftly slipped into his characteristic suit and promptly left through the now open window.

Confusion knit at Peter’s brow and he forced his tired, abused body to the end of the bed. His head swam and he had to focus on each single movement. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain of their coupling was beginning to set in. He winced and it was only when he made it to his destination, throwing his legs woodenly over the side of the bed did he notice the mirror across the room.

He blinked owlishly in confusion and awe at his reflection. Golden curls tousled haphazardly down his back and blue eyes seemed to glow in the dim light flooding the room from the open window. Large breasts stood proudly out from his chest, his waist narrow and covered in deep red marks. A chill ran down his spine and his reflection mirrored the look of horror slowly spreading on his face; this was not Wade’s room and he was not Peter.

He hurriedly dived for the tall mirror, sure that it was some trick of the light, but as he neared the reflection changed; where Peter scrambled across the floor on hands and bruised knees, the woman stood and waved. Her mouth moved, but her voice seemed to come from everywhere in his mind, “That was nice wasn’t it? Not what you’re used to I see, but still nice. That was the last night I saw him…”

No words came out of his mouth and his body felt heavy all over again, like some great weight was pressing down on him with the most gentlest of touches. The woman in the mirror shook her head, the crown of curls bouncing attractively, “No, I’m afraid you have no voice. You see I’m jealous…. Deeply jealous of you, but it’s not your fault. Wade is… Picky and very prone to… Well you know.”

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes, those deep luminous eyes. “I wanted you to feel what I felt, to know someone else has had him and to warn you… Some day someone else will have him too. It’s his nature and that anger you feel for me is ingrained in my heart for you. You have what I want and I’ll be damned if I let you enjoy it.”

His hands were balled into fists and just as he reared up to land a punch square into the glass, the world vanished except for the mirror; the shards spraying everywhere in slow motion in a rain of silver. The tumult in Peter’s heart calmed and he was wrapped in warmth, his hands gently massaged into open palms, and his hair smoothed away from his forehead by cool unseen hands.

“I’m so sorry you had to meet her. I’m so sorry.” the words echoed around in the darkness, but already the images were forgotten as Peter floated down into empty slumber.

 

-Logan-

Logan tensed as he felt unfamiliar tendrils stroking at his mind, probing him almost angrily; nothing like Jean used to do. His hands balled into fists as he felt a single shard wedge itself into his mind, frustratingly giving into the darkness that soon engulfed him. 

He grunted as he landed into a crouch, a somewhat familiar scene rushing forward to meet him. It was a Weapon X base, one of the few that had been able to infiltrate and destroy after his rehabilitation and release as an X-man. He licked his lips, claws unsheathing as he fell into the practiced moves in the memory; the world around him a muted cacophony of battle and terror. His muscles burned and he was panting by the time he made it to a hiding place large enough to conceal his hulking form.

Behind him was a dimly lit passageway, probably left abandoned when they stormed the facility. He waited a moment in silence, making sure none had seen him wander off from the main battle, to carefully make his way farther down the corridor; just to see if it was worth checking out of course. He moved along stealthily, going through rows up rows of empty cells until he finally heard what could only be described as choking laughter.

He pressed himself against the bars of the cell just beside the one that appeared to be occupied, scenting the air and arming himself. Whatever was on the other side of the stone divider was more likely than not some poor experiment that needed to be dispatched instead of saved. He inhaled sharply and stepped quickly out, entirely unprepared for what he saw. A young girl, much younger than the others they had helped escape in the early extraction of the building was straining against a heavy chain attached to the wall of the cell. The barred door had been left tantalizingly open, as many of the others had been when the wings were vacated, but no one had bothered to release her collar.

Logan narrowed his eyes at the straining girl, who seemed to only be happily focused on her route of escape and completely ignoring the full grown man who had jumped out at her. A pang of pity struck him uncharacteristically and against his better judgement, he retracted his claws and stepped forward. The sound of his boots brought the girl’s attention, her clear blue eyes clouding with a mix of fear and elation while the laughter died in her throat; had someone come to rescue her?

She panted and grunted, unable to form telligible words from her hours of struggle, a thick purple band now easily visible beneath the chain around her fragile neck. Logan held a hand out to stop the girls struggles, his claws slicing out carefully so as not to startle her before he struck out, easily breaking a link from her collar to the wall. The small child crumpled gratefully to the ground, her breathing shallow and labored. Her bird-like shoulders shook as her eyes darted between Logan and the open cell door. She darted for the opening, something white and long flowing behind her like a cloak that hadn’t been there before.

Logan watched amazed as a pair of pristine white wings flew forth from the child’s back in a spray of blood and torn skin, the tiny creature stumbling slightly before righting herself. Thick gold ringlets clung to her sweaty forehead, her small body wracking with pain from the sudden release of her wings.

Logan felt detached, unable to move beyond the thin bars to be of any help or hinderance. It all felt disturbingly familiar, but at the same time brand new to him. A small hand reached out to press against the bars, deep blue eyes rising to stare quizzically at him, “You don’t remember at all do you?” a very mature voice pulling from the purple throat.

If he had been in control of his body, Logan would have jerked back in surprise, “Grace?” he had meant to question, but no sound came out. 

“In the same year that you lost her, you freed me, only to leave me alone to be captured again. I’d almost forgotten, but you… This entire year is simply full of red hair.” the tiny girl chuckled, the sound too deep to come from her delicate pink lips.

Before him she changed, growing taller and filling out in all the important places. Her dingy white dress was switched out for a pretty summer one, a light shade of daisy yellow. Straight red hair replaced the blonde curls and no longer did a young Grace stand before him, but a mature Jean Grey exactly as he remembered her.

If the sound of a heart breaking was audible, Logan knew that it would have broken his own ear drums. A feeling of bitter loss and unrivaled rage mixed in his stomach until his vision went as red as the woman’s hair. 

“You have no right to be her!” he snarled, his voice finally found as he lunged for the unperturbed girl.

“No… I do.” she countered, the cell door slamming shut, “You see you made me a promise after we met the second time… You have never kept it, but I remember it well.”

Blood pounded in his ears and Wolverine could barely hear her crisp voice above the roar, but still the words wriggled themselves in and rooted there in his mind.

“I promise doll, it’s you I love and only you.”

Tears dripped down Jean’s face, unchecked as her shoulders shook as she cried openly, suddenly dissolving back into the image Logan had been waking up next to for the past couple of years. His anger was dampened as the words echoed around in his head; he had indeed said them and it had been true at the time.

He sheathed his claws and his hands fell almost limply to his sides, his anger neatly tucked away in the pit of his stomach, set aside for when he knew she deserved it; now was not the time. He still remained behind the bars, but the emotions that had washed over him upon seeing Jean again, the innocent feelings of attraction brought all the care and tenderness unbidden to his eyes. He was a man yes and he was crying; despite his mutant status, he could be considered human you know?

“Gracie I’m… I meant…” he fumbled for the words, uncharacteristically speechless as he tried to explain himself, find some excuse, but this wasn’t his world anymore only the vessel for her’s. He would find no reason, he couldn’t make up a way to fix things and he fell stonily silent as the realizations came to him.

He saw it plain and clear, he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him; he could not make it better even if he had genuinely wanted to.

“You deserve every heart wrenchingly painful that has been and will happen to you. Those who break their promises aren’t better than the ones they point a blaming finger at.” she spat at him, the fire that he had fallen in love with burning brightly just beneath her skin.

He snorted, not really a chuckle and not really a groan, his voice taken from him again by the glaring woman. He had no choice but to accept defeat, bowing and shaking his head as he waited for the painful pinch in the back of his mind; wincing before releasing himself to the darkness.


End file.
